


VIOLE[n]T

by Angels_Artillery



Category: The Mechanisms (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, And Brian is on Thin Fucking Ice, But like the pretty kind, Canon-Typical Violence, Depending on the Love Interest, Enemies to Lovers, Found Family, Friends to Lovers, It/Its Pronouns for The Toy Soldier (The Mechanisms), M/M, Multi, Polyamorous Mechanisms (The Mechanisms), Slow Burn, So is Jonny, Street Gang au, The Mechs are a Street Gang, Tim is and Idiot, Tim keeps getting confused and emotional, Vandalism, also the Toy Soldier still is named Toy Soldier, but like in groups, no one is straight, now for the real tags, the Ashes & Nastya is just that good quality queerplatonic rep
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-28
Updated: 2021-02-07
Packaged: 2021-03-11 02:41:26
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 17,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28377879
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Angels_Artillery/pseuds/Angels_Artillery
Summary: Tim, in an unfortunate turn of events on his way home from work, gets trapped in a street gang known as 'The Mechanisms'. And he's never met a stranger group of people.This is a poly mechs Jonny/Tim/Brian fic that will be, unfortunately, a slow burn, because if you don't drag everything out to unnecessary lengths, are you really doing it right?Tim is Emotional™ because he is a man with all of the emotions cranked to ten at all times, but he's also Very Tired™, so like-
Relationships: Ashes O'Reilly & Nastya Rasputina, Drumbot Brian/Jonny d'Ville/Gunpowder Tim, Ivy Alexandria/Raphaella la Cognizi/Marius von Raum
Comments: 40
Kudos: 51





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> A quick look at the names everyone goes by:  
> Gunpowder Tim  
> (Gunmen/Eyes)  
> Raphaella La Cognizi  
> (Mad/Wings/Officer)  
> Jonny D’Ville  
> (First/Mate/Heart)  
> Ashes O’Reilly  
> (Quartermaster/Lungs)  
> Nastya Rasputina  
> (Engine Girl/Romanov/Mercury)  
> Marius Von Raum  
> (Doctor/Baron/Lancelot)  
> Drumbot Brian  
> (Drumbot/Pilot)  
> Toy Soldier  
> (Angel/Toy Soldier/Pellinore)  
> Ivy Alexandria  
> (Books/Red)  
> And ages because I think that's very important. Most of these aren't my hc ages, but I wanted to tweak them for this AU:  
> Tim is 20  
> Ashes is 24  
> Brian is 23  
> Nastya is 18  
> Ivy is 23  
> Marius is 20  
> Raphaella is 22  
> Jonny is 21

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger or Content warnings for this chapter:  
> Minor threatening with a gun  
> Mention of someone being shot

The jangle of keys hitting the wood of a door was the only sound in the clammy air. It was nightfall and it was Tim's turn on the closing shift at the hardware shop he had worked at for nearly two years. As he turned around to leave the locked door, the streetlamp lighting his way flickered and died.

"Goddamnit," he muttered, taking out his phone and shaking it to ignite the flashlight so he could see. "You'd think they'd fix that thing, it never stays on like it's supposed to." It annoyed him to no end that this part of town was drifting into disrepair. Some said it was already there, but he refused to accept that. 

The flashlight lit his way, illuminating the gum stained, just grimey sidewalk as he walked around and through the dark streets and alleyways. Tim stopped his mutterings as a slightly muffled, but still loud bang echoed through the darkly lit brick jungle. It was followed closely by the falling of a body to the ground in the silence. Tim felt a panic rise in him. He looked around frantically for any kind of grounder before the glint of the nearest light caught a shadow, holding what looked like a rolled-up quilt. Tim didn't know what to do. He just watched as the man turned to him.

"Ah, shit- Uh, hello?" The apparently female shadow said with apprehension. She sounded much older than expected, almost within years of his own age. Slowly, Tim took in the scene of the body lying on a tarp, the smoldering hole in the quilt, and the black mask over the bottom of the woman's face. He was frozen in fear and shock. It almost felt like his stomach was being filled with concrete. When he started to respond, to ask what was happening when he was cut off. 

"Mad, who-" a much shorter boy emerged from the inside of the alleyway. This one had black hair. His mask was black, and he was wild-looking too. "Mad, who the hell is that? And what did they see?"

Finally, Tim spoke, feeling almost like he might vomit. "You just- you just shot that person!" He exclaimed. "Is- is he dead..?" 

"Typically that is what happens when someone gets shot in the chest. They die, no?" So the shorter one was snarky, that was annoying. "Come here pretty boy," he ordered. Flicking a finger at Tim, scoffing as he approached, now shaking. The girl one, Mad she'd been called, followed behind, practically bouncing on her toes. 

"Hey Heart, do we need to take him to Quart-" 

"Shut up Mad. Let me talk. He saw you get rid of someone, we can't just let him go. But we shouldn't bring him to anyone without knowing what he'll do. Or what he'll say…" He eyed Tim up and down like a rich lady with a fine piece of clothing. Needless to say, Tim hated his inspecting eyes, rimmed with black from both makeup and apparent exhaustion. It discomforted him so deeply, he wasn't sure what to do. The cement in his stomach was seeping through his limbs now. 

Tim finally snapped into his senses. "I'm not going to go anywhere with you! I just saw you shoot a man! Why would I trust you at all!?" Mustering all his courage, he cocked a hip and stuck a finger in Mad's face, who went cross-eyed to look at it. 

“I mean, you just saw us shoot someone, yeah. Meaning- uh.” She looked to Jonny, who nodded. “Meaning you’ll have two options.” She stuck up two fingers. “One, we can shoot you too or-”

“What!” Tim screeched, only to have Jonny slap a hand over his mouth. 

“Mad! Less time than more time!” He gritted out

“Yeah, yeah, sorry. We can either shoot you, or you can swear allegiance to the gang we are a part of. Pick your poison. They both last forever.” Tim most certainly did not like the sound of the last sentence. He aggressively shoved Jonny’s hand off his face and glared at him. 

“So I either die and go to hell or live and go to hell?" he said, sounding a little more scared than he intended. It was supposed to come out snarky.

“Yup.” D’Ville’s voice was completely uncaring behind his mask. Like he wasn’t discussing a man’s life. “So figure it out. You have thirty seconds. Death, or us, prettyboy.”

“I- uh-” Tim stuttered out. God, he felt like his mouth was stuffed with cotton. 

“Twenty- five, Twenty-four…” Heart’s voice flooded his senses. The numbers were near suffocating as Tim stood on the sidewalk. The ground under his feet was the only thing holding his mind to the earth it felt, and he felt like he might puke. “Thirteen, twelve, eleven…” Was the air getting thicker? Was Mad talking now too? Was it getting brighter outside? “Eight, seve-”

“I'll join! I'll join, just stop counting!” Tim yelled, clasping his hands over his ears. 

“Swear it? If you change your mind, we will have to kill y-”

“I GET IT!!!” Tim screamed, getting the hand shoved back over his mouth, and causing Raphaella to jump. 

“Good. Mad, finish what we were sent down here to do. I’ll take prettyboy here to Quartermaster to get their opinion on the matter.” Tim’s face went white. Did he mean...

“Are you saying-” he held up a hand to silence Jonny. “Let me speak. Are you saying, I just signed up for, what I'm assuming, is an illegal street gang, that I might not even be accepted into, resulting in my death either way?!” The thought made his blood boil. Sure, the boy was scared out of his wits, but he was also beyond pissed. 

"Yes, now if you don't shut up, I'll kill you here and now. Got a tarp ready and everything," Jonny promised.

Tim gulped, the cotton feeling stuffing his throat yet again as he followed the gang member.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

Tim grunted rather ungracefully as he was shoved through the doorway of a large rundown factory-type building. It was cold, grey, and hard. He did not like it one bit. The inside of the large room almost felt foggy, with the dusted and dirtied windows, some of which were busted, letting in the tiniest bit of light on the crystal clear night sky above. Tim shivered in his t-shirt, despite the summer heat. 

"Are you gonna explain anything to me or am I just supposed to figure it out?" He said, an air of annoyance very prominent in his voice. "because my hands are tied, literally, and you've stopped leading me so I don't know where to go." Tim snapped at the short ‘Heart’ man, more than a little angry. Sure, he was still deathly terrified, but he was focusing on turning that fear into anger.

"What did I say in the car?" Shoving Tim forward again, Jonny stepped on his heels. His shoes slipped down off the back of his feet.

"Wow, Heart, wow. You are just, so mature," he dragged, still snickering when he was smacked up-side the head. "Fine! You said that if I said a word you'd put a bullet through my ‘pretty little face!’ Which you have yet to do and I've kept talking, so!" Tim shrugged, his wrist still bound from where they'd been tied on the ride over. He was struck in the head again, harder this time. He just spat on the floor, still looking down as he mumbled to himself.

"First!" A powerful voice demanded towards Heart. Why did he have to have two names now, Tim thought. A loud, powerful voice. Tim was now managing to become more confused. It wasn’t like anything new had really happened. "Who's the Rapunzel?" the voice asked with a chuckle as shoes, nice black boots, appeared in his line of sight. Steel-toed and pulled tight with purple laces. Tim swallowed hard as he looked up and took in the sight of a broad, dark-skinned… person? Grinning down at him. They had wildly kinky hair tucked under a hat. It was dyed bits of blond, and brown. He vaguely heard Heart explain why he was in front of this terrifyingly impressive specimen. Too entranced and in fear of the person, Tim didn't hear them introduce themself, or even really realize they were actually a little shorter than him in height. 

"Excuse me, but are you not gonna introduce yourself to me, princess?" They said with a smirk and a chuckle, lifting Tim's chin with their fingers. He broke free of his trance once they touched him.

"Um, yeah, I'm.." he trailed off in thought. "I'm... Gunman," He said, a little uncertain. The people around him had clearly not given their real names, why should he have to. And that was close enough to his first name if he said the wrong thing anyway. As the impressive one looked him up and down he began to worry he'd done the wrong thing. Said the wrong thing. What was with this group and just eyeing people like they were something to be bought for a high price.

"Well, as I said but you certainly didn't hear me, I’m Quartermaster and you will address me as such. It's nice to meet you, _Gunmen._ " Their grin was almost wicked as they dropped his chin. They looked to Jonny and motioned for him to follow. He dropped his hands to the side and followed who Tim assumed to be the leader. 

Tim didn't like it, being left to stand here alone, hands bound and unfamiliar with the area around him. He didn't know where to hide if something happened. What was taking them so long and where had they gone? Where are they not gonna ask him more questions? That seemed less than thorough. After what felt like hours but was probably closer to fifteen minutes, the two came back into the light. 

"So, have you decided my ever crucial fate? Because I'm getting really fed up with not being told much if anything," Tim gripped. He really needed to be less snappy. He wasn't always like this either. He just hadn't eaten since his lunch break at noon. And it was nearly one in the morning. 

"Yes, we have." Ashes stood in front of Jonny, who had his arms folded. "Of course, we'll still have to see how you do, but for now, you seem good enough. How'd you know not to give your real name?" They asked as they moved behind to untie Tim. 

"Well, you three didn't. Why should you get to know my name if I don't know yours." 

"Ok Gunpowder Tim," Ashes chuckled as Tim, now unbound, slid away from them. 

"What the hell?!" He exclaimed before seeing his ID in the person’s left hand, and his wallet in the other. Ashes held them out to Tim, who quickly grabbed them and shoved them back into his back pocket, only to have them grabbed again by Jonny. 

"Don't bring these next time," they instructed teasingly. Tim reached out and snatched them back. 

"I didn't even know I'd be here the first time! Fuck off!" Tim yelled, clearly distressed. He was hungry and he was tired and he just wanted to go home and get into bed and never see these shitty people ever again. Surely his expression portrayed that, because Ashes eased off him. They put a hand on his shoulder and forced him to look them in the eye. They were dark, heavy eyes that shone like knives in the dim light.

"Go home. Say nothing. Come back tomorrow at eight and bring your necessities. You'll be living here now." This was way too much to take in at once. 

"But I- I have work!" Tim stressed. 

"You can go back in after tomorrow. Check behind you. Don't be seen. But for now, I’d sleep if I was you."

"Wait," Jonny interrupted. God Tim was starting to get sick of this guy. "He has to swear in right?" 

"Ah of course. Tim, do you swear your loyalty to us and no other?" Ashes asked, hand a now tighter grip on his shoulder, but managing to sound bored regardless. Tim didn't realize how much this really meant until now. It was terrifying. Sure it's not like he was really in an exceptional place in life or anything but this meant he would throw his life away. Forever probably. 

"I…" he took a deep breath as he could feel the way Heart’s eyes bore into the back of his head. "I do." He set his mouth in a hard line and made eye contact with Quartermaster.

"Good. If you break that oath you'll be killed. Goodnight Tim," Ashes said in a wholly too comfortable tone. They patted his shoulder and walked away, leaving Tim standing alone in the dark. As he walked to what he thought he remembered as the exit, he walked by the girl from before. Mad, that was the girl's name Heart had said.

"You seem cool. Hopefully, you'll get along with everyone. See you tomorrow!" Raph knocked him in the shoulder with a light punch as she too disappeared into the dark silence. How was she already so in the loop?

Tim sighed. It took him an hour and a half to get to his car. He hated this. Pulling into his apartment parking lot, he sat still in the car, hand gripping the wheel as the reality of everything came crashing down on him in a crushing stillness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading!! I already have the next few chapters written and I'll be (hopefully) posting a new one every week!!!


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tim gets introduced to a few more faces, and his new place of residence.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok I need to start posting these once a week, but since I have like 7 chapters stocked up, I think I can afford to dump a few at once.
> 
> I don't believe there are any trigger warnings or content warnings to be aware of in this chapter.

The tall metal door of the warehouse was staring Tim down as he approached, backpack slung over one shoulder.

He’d parked about two miles away behind an old church and taken as many back ways as he could think of to avoid being seen. Now that he was here, though, he wasn’t sure what was next. It's not like he could just call one of them to let him in. His phone was in the glove box of his car, and they didn't give him a phone number anyway.

Finally deciding between his option for getting in, he started to reach down for the handle of the steel panel door. A subtle click sounded from behind it and the door slid up quickly, smacking poor Tim in the face. Gripping his now sore nose, he stumbled back.

“What the-”

“Ah finally. We thought you weren't coming!” Raphaella sauntered forward out of the building, followed closely by a new woman and Heart. God, that guy again, “Wait, you weren't seriously gonna try and open that yourself were you?” she looked at Tim with mock sympathy.

“Uhh, yeah? Why is that weird?” Tim asked. Raphaella busted out in laughter as the new young woman pushed her back and took her spot.

Looking closer now, Tim thought she looked incredibly young. Younger than even him.

“Because at every entrance, there are three chains bolting it shut. The doors can only be opened from the inside.” Nastya started to explain. She seemed smart and put together, Tim thought. So far no one he’d seen was even remotely old. Even the Quartermaster character couldn't have been older than 24. It was weird. Why would a bunch of admittedly very young people be in some kind of street gang?

“Wouldn't that make it impossible to get in though? Unless you climbed over the roof?” Nastya slid a hand behind Tim’s shoulders, guiding him into the building. As he passed by Jonny, who had not moved, even to unfold his arms, rolled his eyes.

“There never isn't someone here. That would be idiotic.” Apparently, that was what he considered an adequate answer. “Wings! Come on, we need to go inside!” she called out to the girl, who’d Tim had heard be called ‘Mad’ last night who’d gotten distracted by what looked like graffiti on the left side window. The glass was so dirty you couldn't see it if you wanted to. And also there was a giant scraping of letters over it too. Though Tim did have to say it still looked quite pretty.

As the group made their way into a corner of the ground floor of the warehouse's main expanse, Tim heard Raphaella whispering to Jonny.

“You think it was one of Pilot’s? Because it's definitely not mine and it didn't really look like Baron’s style…”

“Just don't worry about it. I doubt it means anything. Just tell Lungs later,” was all he responded with, before going to fling himself on a ratty, suspiciously stained couch with hideous flower print fabric. There goes three more names Tim didn’t recognize. Lungs was said with the same weight as Quartermaster, so maybe that was the same person, but the other two just lost him.

Nastya took one of the two lawn chairs and Raphella sat in the stiff-backed armchair. Unsure of where to go, Tim just sat down hard on the floor.

“So, Gunman is the name you picked? God that's almost as bad as Baron. Least he was sixteen, so he had an excuse.” Nastya chuckled, crossing her legs. “You can call me Engine Girl, Mercury, whatever slips out first. Hopefully, You won’t need it too much, I’m mostly just Lungs’ back man. We shouldn’t have to deal with each other too much.” So ‘Lungs’ and Quartermaster were the same person, Tim noted.

“Wait, who? Sixteen? What?”

“Don't get hung up on that bit, pretty boy. Here’s the thing, we’re here to teach you how things work around here. So, listen closely and don't fuck up.” Jonny instructed, butting in, not looking up from where he was lounging on the couch. Tim gulped, very much not happy with this.

Nastya snapped her fingers to get Tim’s attention, causing Raphaella, who'd apparently dozed off, to jump. Tim turned back to the girl with teal-tipped hair, too intimidated to look anywhere other than her chin. Eye Contact was too scary.

“So. We all live here. That’s not exactly normal but it makes everything a lot easier. The only ones that have actual paying jobs are myself and Books. The latter works at that print company that no one actually knows why it's still in business. You know that one right?” Duh. “and I work as maintenance and repairs at a veterinary clinic. That is not anything you need to know or share though. It’s irrelevant.”

Tim slowly raised his hand like a kid in a classroom. He wasn't sure what else to do to ask a question. It got a laugh from the two roused people, Raphaella was back asleep. Well, Jonny’s was more of a single scoff mixed with a laugh. Tim considered it a win. Or maybe not. He was too nervous to think straight.

“You guys. Uh. You guys do stuff like drug running and money laundering and vandalism and stuff, right? You don't like, work as, traffickers or mercs or anything right?” Tim was trying to control the waver in his voice. He hadn't thought of all that beforehand. He honestly would have rather taken a bullet to the head than traffick people or animals or anything living really.

“Of course not! We aren't monsters, just delinquents. Though, there are plenty on this team that’ll put a bullet through you in a second flat.” Nastya assured him, and a loud “mmhmm” from Jonny agreed. “Now,” she pushed herself up from the chair, looking towards Raph in pondering if she should shake the girl awake. She shook her head and mumbled a little to herself before starting to walk away. 

~~~~~~~

“This will be where you sleep, and essentially live. As you fall in a bit more, you can make it a bit more...you.” Nastya had led him to a room made entirely of concrete on the top floor of the warehouse. The whole level hung over the first two floors, giving a clear view of the floor two stories down from the gated pathway. It almost served as an evergoing balcony. It did have one big window though, right over the trashy mattress he was expected to sleep on. That was a bit disgusting. And the glass panes were only kinda dirty, and a few were missing and covered with saran wrap, but whatever. 

“That window opens, don't worry,” Jonny spoke up, startling Tim. “I'm going to take a nap with Ra- with Mad, but in a real bed. I'm still not recovered from last night.” with that he walked off, leaving the two alone. It made Tim nervous again. Mercury really was intimidating. So much in fact, that when she laid a hand on Tim’s shoulder, he nearly hit the ceiling. 

“Don't worry Gunmen. Everything will be fine. And welcome to the family. It's a mess but whatever. You'll be fine. Bathroom down the hall to the left.” and then she was gone too, leaving Tim standing in his doorway, clutching his backpack and watching dust particles dancing and drift in the early sun rays.

Once he sat down, he started thinking about her. She couldn’t have been older than 17 or 18, and she was so pale. Unnaturally so, her veins standing out where her rolled-up sleeves showed her fore-arms. She looked anemic, if anemic people were even worse off. He almost wondered if she was on some kind of drugs, but he’d lived enough to know he’d be able to tell by other signs or trackmarks that just weren't there.

“Maybe I'll go find that bathroom…” Tim muttered to himself, shaking his head as he chucked his bag onto the ‘bed’.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Oh contwxt time!!! And also Marius!!!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Content Warnings:  
> Brief mentions of guns/a gunfight  
> I think that's all

The sink was violent. Tim tried turning the stiff metal faucet, and honestly, it didn't feel like it was gonna budge. After about five minutes of struggling, he got it turned, and all the power of hell came screaming out of the spout, splashing water everywhere off the bowl. Tim jumped back in shock.

"Ah! Demon sink!" He tried to get close enough to it without getting sprayed with little luck. He sighed and resigned himself to his soaking wet fate. Least the water pressure was good he guessed. Made him wonder if they'd messed with the pressure to make it easier to wash off blood…No, no of course not, it's just an old building, Tim don't think like that, he scolded himself.

Swinging open the metal door to his room, he was met with the sight of a short, but mischievous-looking boy? Man? Sitting on his bed, going through his shit. 

"Hey, what the hell!" He exclaimed, going to yank the bag out of the boy's hand. Instead, he caught his wrist and held it tightly. It hurt a lot, much to Tim’s surprise. "Ah! We get it, we get it! You're strong man! Let go!" He said in a panicked voice. The curly-haired boy just laughed. 

"Hey, I'm Baron. I was wondering what this stuff was. Not really the First Mate’s style," he joked, dropping Tim's arm and holding up a deep blue sweater, successfully confusing him more with yet another name. Or title. Or whatever the fuck. Tim rubbed his wrists and snatched the clothing, holding it in his mouth as he aggressively worked off his soaking shirt. Marius just laughed at him. "So you had a run-in with the sink? The trick is to just stand to the side of it, and barely turn it on." 

Tim grunted in response. Oddly enough, he didn't feel too threatened by this guy. Despite being clearly stronger than everyone else he'd met before him, aside from maybe Quartermaster, he just wasn't that scary. So Tim threw his soaked shirt at him. 

"Mind telling me why you're going through my stuff, Baron?" Why did everyone have such weird names? What was the point?

"Oh yeah. Because I'm curious about you. And what better way to know all about you than to go through your shit?" He shrugged, sticking his hand back into the backpack. Tim didn't bother to stop him. He had nothing to hide. 

"You could like, actually talk to me? That would be an option?" Tim said in a smart-alec tone, picking the shirt up off Marius’ lap and draping it over this random bar mounted to the wall. Like a pull-up bar. 

"Yeah, I guess. So what's your name and your deal? How'd you end up here?" He asked, taking the bookbag and setting it behind him. He patted the bed to signal Tim he should sit.

"Well, I guess I go by Gunman now, and I saw Mad and Heart- First Mate- whatever, shoot a guy last night so it was this or death I guess." Marius noticed he looked a little sad and apprehensive about it.

"Well, I'm Baron as I said. Or Lancelot, or Doctor, whatever floats your boat. I joined when I was sixteen. Lungs- they probably told you to call them Quartermaster- used to help me do my Algebra homework between work and gang stuff." The brown of his eyes shone with nostalgia as he remembered the supposedly fond memory. "Heart was the first one to join really. A few years ago, this gang was almost completely decimated. There were like two or three guys left after a huge police investigation. They got it up and kicking. Heart then Mercury, Lungs and Iv- Brain, then Voice, then Pilot, last Ra- Wings, then me. And now you." Marius slapped Tim on that back a little harder than appropriate. It hurt. Again. The number of names, and how they kept changing was driving him up the wall. 

"You were sixteen? Why so young?" Tim felt kinda bad for the boy. He only looked a year or two older than himself. And to grow up in a life like this, in a place like this. 

"Well, what happened was I guess I witnessed a deal I wasn't supposed to with a rival, and before they killed me or whatever they were gonna do to me, there was a gunshot next to my head, and a scraggly 19-year-old Heart was standing there, gun drawn, followed by someone we call- well, called Scuzz and another one named Stowaway. I must have passed out from fear or shock because I woke back up here with Pilot bent over me. There had been a big fight, he said. He had a bandage around his leg. It’d been hurt in the fight. It started a war between us and them. Three of them died that night, I was told. But Mercury was younger than me. Thirteen. But you can't say I told you that,”

He looked sad at that. And guilty too. Letting out a long breath, Marius looked down to his hands folded in his lap, fingers intertwined tightly. Tim started to reach out a hand to put on him, like a comfort. Unsure of why. Marius just shook his head and pushed the hand away. It was a move to say he was fine. The tears glinting in his eyes suggested otherwise.

“Scuzz and Stowaway included. We lost..” voice stuttering to a stop, Marius took a deep breath and looked at the sky. “God I hate getting like this- I’m just- I’m just tired ok?” 

He seemed more like he was trying to reassure himself than Tim at this point. Taking a deep breath, he started back again. “We wiped them out. Lost six total. But we did wipe them out, though. The other gang. A couple of them joined us too, but they don't stay here. They operate on the other side of our territory. Different building. They're a bit older.”

“You don’t have to go any farther, Baron. I understand.” This time, Marius let him place his hand over his own in his lap. It made Tim ache to see the pain in his eyes. Clearly, he didn't like remembering this more than he had to. Tim realized, he really was raised by these people. He decided he should change the subject. He wasn’t exactly the type to enjoy playing therapist.

“So, what do you do? You're clearly really strong, do you like, get sent out if they need someone punched really hard?” Tim asked, and it made Marius chuckle some. Rude. 

“Sorta. Mostly I work with Wings and Pilot to do things like tagging, vandalism, intimidation. All that stuff. Lungs and Mercury also likes to send me, Voice, or Wings out with Jonny if he’s out on a run. Just in case something goes south,” he explained, gesturing as he did. The sky outside had reached its brightest point in the day. According to the clock on the wall, it was already noon. How had the day passed so quickly?

“Still with me Rapunzel? You zoned out a bit.” Marius asked while waving a hand in front of the eyes staring at the clock. Tim turned back to him awkwardly, clearing his throat and shifting on the bed. The Baron’s face stretched into a grin. “I know exactly what’ll wake you up!”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A loud crash echoed around the concrete walls, damped by the assorted rugs that Marius kept insisting were totally padding. Sure didn't feel like it when Tim hit the ground yet again. 

“Wow, you suck at this!” Marius teased, offering him a hand up. After their talk, he’d dragged Tim into some basement to ‘spar’. Totally was not a fair fight, but Tim figured Baron knew that. The second he was back up on his feet, a fist was flying towards his face. He dodged it this time. So far that was all he could do. Dodge. Years of being bullied as a kid clearly paid off. Though. Tim never figured he’d use it in a gang. 

At some point, Raphaella and Jonny wandered in with a new girl, one with bright red hair with trimmed short sides. She immediately took a seat and started to read silently. The former was adamant in cheering for, what Tim now picked up was, her boyfriend. Jonny went back and forth. Mostly not commenting, but occasionally throwing out a suggestion to one or the other. By the end, he was heavily favoring Tim.

“Aim for the solar-plexus!”

“The what?! Gah-!” Tim ducked again, accidentally rolling under Marius' short legs, knocking him off balance. 

“Just- god you’re dumb- Just kick him in the back!” 

Tim did as Jonny told. He kicked up as hard as he could, hitting Marius square in the back, knocking him down.

“Oh my god!” Tim covered his mouth and stepped back as Marius made an odd groaning sound. He looked frantically between Jonny and Raph. “I- Am sorry! I didn't- He- I” Mad cut him off with roarus laughter, leaning over to punch the red-head in the shoulder, who began to laugh softly at him.

“Oh my god! It took Jo- shit- Heart nearly a month to take down Baron in hand to hand!” Jonny glared at Raphaella as he walked forward to Tim, who stood still in shock. Jonny pressed a large hand against the place just below the center of his ribs. Tim flinched.

“I'm not gonna hurt you, calm down. This,” he patted the area “is the solar-plexus. Kick anyone really hard there, it's gonna hurt. A lot. The back works too. Looks like you knocked the air out of him,” he chuckled, moving his hand to Tim’s shoulder.

Marius was standing up now, leaning on Ivy, starting to make a noise between a wheeze and a laugh. “Thanks, Red,” he muttered as she steadied him, still reading her book. 

“Good job, Rapunzel. Yo-” a phone buzzed, and Marius fumbled pulling it out.   
“Guys, we need to go. Tim, don't leave. You can once we get back. Explore or something.”

With that the group was gone in a second, leaving Tim alone in the dark.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok I'm a dumbass and forgot to post this one between the second and fourth chapter-


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Brian!! Finally!!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Be careful and go back and read chapter three if you haven't!!! My idiot self uploaded them out of order and I just fixed it!!!

Night had fallen. Everyone had left. Even the anemic girl. Seemed like the perfect time to explore the place. 

Wandering along the large concrete pathway, Tim just randomly opened doors. Some of them were unlocked, but most of them weren't. The first one was a bedroom similar to his own, but it had a real bed, a dresser, a table and chairs, even a rug and shades for the windows. There were two windows! 

He pushed it the rest of the way open, and stepped in, heading toward the bed. Jumping onto the plush thing, Tim let out a groan. It was even more comfortable than the one he had in his apartment back home. How was that possible?

Tim took a few minutes to roll around on it, like a child, before a gun resting on the far bedside table caught his eye.

“Oh, fuck.” he stared at it for a second before jumping off the bed and fixing the covers, before fleeing the room. On his way out though, he did see a small polaroid of Quartermaster and Mercury on the wall. The names Ashes and Nastya were written under it. That led Tim to the conclusion that Ashes must be Quartermaster and Nastya, Mercury. At least he knew two of their names. Four left. Or five? He swore he’d heard Marius mention seven names, not counting himself or Tim, but he’d only seen evidence of the six others.

He decided just to look at the rest of the rooms from the doorway. Tim found the rest of the rooms to be more personalized. Marius' was locked, and it had his "name" sprayed sloppily across the door in a blue-green color, and right next to it, Raphaella had done the same, hers in gold. That door wasn't locked, and when Tim ducked his head in, he saw it was a) a mess, b) also kinda nice looking. Very plain, yeah, but it had a lot of graffiti on the walls on large cloths that had been nailed into the walls, and two mattresses without a bed frame over in the corner, as though it was just an afterthought. It also had a table in the center of the room, covered in all sorts of things that looked dangerous and possibly illegal. Chemicals and substances and opaque boxes locked shut. The next door just had a big red dot in the center, and a scrawling of the word ‘mine’ in the same red paint, like the person didn’t really care and just wanted people to know which space was taken. The door was locked. 

Tim decided to just stroll right on past the bastard First Mate’s door. Not risking whatever kind of crazy bullshit that man probably set up.

One door remained as Tim wandered the warehouse. It was plain save for some paint smears along the knob and edges of the door, like someone with paint all over their hands had opened and closed it many times. Tim tried the nob and found that it was open. Stepping into the room, the first thing he noticed was that it was both dark and bright at the same time. There were metal sheets nailed over the windows and the entire room was washed in black-lights and colored bulbs. The walls too. As soon as his eyes adjusted, Tim saw the walls. They were covered ceiling to floor in graffiti and paintings. Unlike Raphaella's room, weren’t on sheets, but on the bare cement. They covered the metal sheets and the dresser and when Tim closed the door softly, they covered the back of that too. A long, lean man stood over in the far corner, headphones in and a cloth mask covering his nose and mouth, as he shook a can of orange spray paint, painting on a large tag that read “DRUMBOT” in tight, angular letters. His hair was curling beautifully where it fell out of the poorly held bun keeping it back. Tim couldn’t tell the real color of it, having it washed in the purple light as it was.

Tim just watched in awe, unnoticed until he tried to step forward, feet knocking into a few cans of paint, sending them rolling. A red one hit the man in the heel. Tim froze in his spot, suddenly very worried about disturbing him. He watched the beautiful man as he bent down, grabbed the can, and looked at Tim. Pulling out a headphone, he walked over to Tim, looking him up and down. That seemed to be a common theme with this group, but Tim didn’t say that out loud. They both stood silent and Tim swore he could feel his heartbeat up in his throat. He started to reach his hand out toward Tim, who instinctively flinched. The man laughed. It was a bright sound, clear and happy.

“Hi, I’m Pilot. You must be the little Gunman I heard about!” Little? He was no smaller than that Jonny guy! In fact, Brian was the first person to actually be taller than him so far. And boy was he taller. A good bit taller. “And don't worry, I wasn't gonna attack you, I just wanted to shake your hand and introduce myself.” he smiled, extending a hand to Tim as he’d said. Shakingly, Tim took it, smiling.

“O-oh, thanks? Do, uh, do you mind if I just sit and watch? You're- the art is very pretty.” that was totally a smooth save on his part, totally. 

“Absolutely not, just sit on the bed there. And try not to make any more noise? I've been out for a while and I'm really tired and I really don't want you to make me mad because that's even more tiring. So just sit on the bed quietly. It’s getting late too, so just slip out when you get tired.” He turned back around and slid the headphones back in.

Tim leaned into the bed, this one was more firm, but it made up for it with a super soft blanket and tons of pillows. He got comfortable and watched Brian paint. The fumes floated around the room, accompanied by the spray of cans and knocking of metal, and Brian's humming off and on with his music.

Before he even noticed, Tim was falling asleep in the beautiful stranger's bed.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is a lot of Raph/Tim/Toy Soldier fun friend times and exposition in thereof. But it's good and Important!!

Obnoxious bird sounds. That's what woke Tim up. And it became the first thing he was aware of, the obnoxious bird that was right outside the room. Then he registered the big door downstairs slamming down, signaling someone’s return to the compound. It was an otherwise calm cacophony of silence and sounds. 

Slowly coming too, Tim opened his eyes and momentarily took a bit to adjust to the light. He was facing the door to the room, that was where light must have been coming from, as the doorway looked out over the main ground floor. Wait, over a ground floor? Why were the walls so colorful? His apartment bedroom was grey. And he never slept with the door open. And His bed definitely wasn't this firm. 

Tim started to realize where he was. He was in the warehouse, but it definitely wasn't his new room. And the arm draped over him was definitely not supposed to be there.

Tim shook himself out of the covers and shot up in the bed, knocking the male arm off his body. He looked across the bed to see Brian laying in the bed next to him. Laying next to him not wearing a shirt, and maybe more, but the blanket was pulled up to his waist. In a panic, Tim patted himself down, letting out a sigh of relief when he realized he was fully dressed.

“Hey, you're up, Gunman.” a voice snapped him back to the outer-world reality. “You fell asleep in here last night, and I figured I might as well just let you stay. You looked so comfy, so I just thought-”

“Yeah, yeah thanks, man. Uh- yeah. So-” Tim shuffled through his words as Brian sat up and ruffled his sleep-mussed hair, the blanket tumbling down a way to fully display the soft stomach of the gang member. “I really have to get to work and I parked like, two miles away and I don't wanna get fired, and uh- yeah. Thanks, I guess. It was- you are- the bed- you’re-” 

Brian laughed at his stumbling as he fell out of the bed and jumped up, fixing himself. “Don't worry, I get it. See you tonight, maybe. Have a good day Gunman!” he waved as Tim hopped and stumbled out the door, down the stairs, and into the open ground floor.

As he surged forward onto the door, he plowed straight into a warm, hard body. 

“Hey, Hey, watch out, you'll run into a pole if you're not careful,” Quartermaster’s voice surrounded him as Tim felt two hands grip his shoulders. They didn't feel like they were aimed to hurt though. More to steady the long-haired boy. “What's the hurry?”

“I'm gonna be late for work...” Tim said, hoping the elder wouldn't notice the half-lie lilt to his voice.

“Aaaand the fact that you fell asleep with our dear Drumbot.” Tim turned red. Ashes just laughed. It was a heavy, hearty thing that seemed all-knowing.

“Shut up!” Tim yelped, sounding like a schoolboy denying rumors of kissing a little girl behind the slide. 

“There ain’t any shame Tim. Just teasing. You get onto work before I make you clean up around here.” Ashes slapped his shoulder, then shoved him towards the door, and walked off, leaving Tim confused as he slipped out and walked the ways to go to his car.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Have a nice day sir!” Tim called out tiredly as the man at the checkout counter of the store heaved his bags up and walked out of the store. The second he was gone, Tim slumped over the counter, folding his arms and laying his head in them with a groan. The apron around his neck had started to rub a sore spot, and he just wanted to shower. It had been almost three days, and he was the type to shower every night.

Feebly raising his head to the large digital clock on the wall, he sighed in relief. Ten minutes till he could lock the doors and close the shop. The sky outside was dark and it was dry and it was hot and Tim guessed that the stupid room he’d been given to live in at the wear-house was not the most temperature controlled. With another groan, he banged his head back down into his arms.

Just then, the bell at the door dinged to signify someone entering. As if it was a reflex he couldn't help, he shot up with a grin on his face, his eyes so close to closing with tiredness on top of the scrunching he couldn't really tell who was walking into the store. 

“Hi! Welcome to Kaiser Hardwear! How can I be of assistance?” he chirped, with fake enthusiasm leaching out of his voice. 

“Well, you could hop into that ugly truck of yours and lead me to your apartment,” Raphaella said with a chuckle, tailed by a new person, whose gender Tim could not discern, leaning on the register. She smiled as Tim deflated with a rush of air. His fingers tangled into his poorly braided hair as he laid his forehead in his hands

“Oh thank God. If one more customer comes in here, I'm gonna off myself. I'm so tired and I just wanna shower. Wait- why my apartment?” Tim looked up, and Raphaella could really see how weary he was. His eyes looked glassy and his face was slack. The eccentric girl felt bad. She knew no one should have expected him to get used to the regular sleepless nights so fast. Especially with him having to keep his job too.

“So we can get some of your stuff, Rapunzel.” Raph’s voice was a little kinder this time. “And so you can leave your truck and you can get a good, warm shower. Does that sound good?” She asked as Tim walked out from behind the counter, pulling his apron over his head and heading to the front doors, locking them. Raphaella followed, right at his heels as he went through the motions of closing up. The imperceivable figure was wandering the shelves aimlessly. Despite the lack of sleep he’d surely gotten, he was as ready to go as ever. Not hyper, exactly, but not lacking in life of any kind. “Are we going out the back door? HEY TOY SOLDIER!”

“Yeah, this way.” was all the explanation Tim gave as he waved them both through a small brown door in the back of the shop as he flicked off the store lights. “Just follow me home, I’ll have to put in the code at the door, so.” Tim shrugged as he swung the door of his car open and stepped up into the cab. 

“Woah, if it has a code, it must be nice!” Toy Soldier commented before he closed the door in their face. 

“Nope.'' The door made a loud thud and locked, the truck rumbling to life and pulling back, causing Toy Soldier to jump and hustle over to Raphaella’s car and follow closely. 

Pulling into the small lot surrounding the somewhat decrepit apartment, Raphaella and The Toy Soldier realized what he meant. The building had clearly once been very nice, but as the years passed, the landlords don't care anymore. 

“Well, it isn't too bad...” it said, tilting its head, voice rising in pitch.

“Don't worry, I take special care to make sure my apartment itself is perfectly fine looking” Tim nodded curtly as he punched the code into the worn-down keypad, a haughty air about him.

The three traveled the stairs and entered the apartment. It was just that. An apartment. Nothing particularly stood out to Raphaella about it. It had a normal, if not old, tv and a normal couch and it was small, yeah. The kitchen and the livingroom were nearly one in the same and there were two small bedrooms conjoined by a bathroom, but it gave off a lived-in vibe, and it wasn't negative either.

“Here,” The Toy Soldier started. “You shower and get yourself cleaned up, I’ll put your mattress and some more clothes in my car. You can grab some of those plastic boxes to keep them in. We can come back and forth the next few days to get more stuff. Ash- Quartermaster will come by tomorrow. You don't have to come if you don't want to, we can take care of it at last tomorrow.” It tried to be considerate, and Tim could tell. They all were. At least Baron, Quartermaster, Toy Soldier, and Raphaella. probably Drumbot and Red too. The jury was still out on them...

“Thank you. I won't be long.” Tim pulled Raphaella into a short hug, surprising even himself as he flattened his palms against the warmth of her broad back. Tim could feel her breathing. The swelling and shrinking of her lungs. After no more than a second, Tim pulled back. Raphaella still looked somewhat dumbfounded having only half embraced him out of surprise. The Toy Soldier had wandered off into the kitchen.

Tim had taken notice of that, and slouched away quite a bit, starting to apologize before Raphaella grabbed him by the wrist and yanked him hard into a hug, smashing their chests together, knocking the air out of the both of them.

“Hey, Tim. You're cool and I like it. You're my friend now and someday, you'll be part of the family. So welcome to the family. Betray us and you'll die, and it's not easy or happy work, but at least we can keep each other moving and, yeah. That's all, but I mean. You seem like really, you'll be good for all of us.” Raphaella kept his arms wrapped around Tim from pulling back. It was shocking that this seemingly crazy woman be so… tender?

“Ok so, you are really starting to smell bad, go shower, I'll put some stuff in my car.” and with that, Raph left him standing in his place, alone.

Tim wandered into the shower, turning the hot water on, letting the steady sound of the water and the warmth surround him. The small room fogged up quickly, relaxing Tim’s muscles and comforting him. The pale tiles collected water droplets, and as he lathered soap in his sweaty hair, he left the excess on his fingers to draw shapes in them. Letting all the motions and dreams and thoughts and events of the past few days all come back to him. A deep sigh left his lips as water ran in rivulets down his cheeks and forehead. Eyes shut tightly to avoid the water, the words the girl called Raphaella had said to him played like an audio recording. Then the fight with Marius. The way Jonny had instructed him, cheered him on, laid his hands so gently on him, despite being so… not gentle? He didn't know how to describe the angry man. And then there was the Drumbot. Beautiful, enigmatic Brian. Tim really had enjoyed watching his long, slender form as it moved to music he couldn't hear while he painted colorful pictures. 

Shaking his head and stepping forward he grabbed the soap and ran it into a lather. His hands slid across his shoulders and biceps, smooth as velvet. Still, he couldn't keep his mind off the men. It was weird for him. But as his fingers traced his skin, shadowing where Jonny had touched him before, he just couldn't push him out of his head completely. His mind kept slipping deeper and deeper, wondering how the First Mate’s long, thin fingers would feel around the rest of him.

A loud thump and a curse from Raphaella followed by laughing from the Toy Soldier in the room next door yanked him out of his fantasies and stopped his hand before it could slide down any lower. He mentally cursed the boy, but he knew he should be thankful. He didn't know anything about these boys yet. They weren't friends, they weren't close. At least not yet. No matter what Raphaella said.

Drudging out of the shower, leaning over to switch off the water and wrapping a towel around his waist, Tim yelled out to Raphaella that he’d be out in a second and then they could go… go home? Go to the base? God, everything was confusing now. And he was tired. Tim hated feeling tired like this. It wasn't just tiring in his body, but in his mind too. with a damp hand, he wiped the mirror of the mist and looked himself in the eyes. Why did he look so worn? It hadn't been even a week? The toll of the past, and now the shocking present, and the now unclear future must have taken more out of him than he thought. 

Tim looked away. He didn't wanna stare at himself any longer, so he got dressed. Jeans, t-shirt, shoes. Walking out to meet Toy Soldier, who was holding a basket of clothes, he grabbed two big plastic bins. 

“Don't get too stressed about it, ok?”

How could he not? He always knew his future would be simple. He’d finished school but he was still in that daft store, and really he never expected much else from himself. Get up, go to work, go to bed. Until he got too old.

You know? Maybe this catastrophe would give his life some kind of direction. Maybe not the most legal direction, but a direction none the less. And maybe, just maybe he'd make some friends that would be worth the pain. Who would know? He thought about all these things as he and the two others made their ways down to the lot again.

“Yeah, thanks Toy Soldier. That’s your name, right?” Tim smiled at him as he sat in the passenger seat. “I'll try.”

Tim watched the complex fade in the rearview mirror, and although he knew he’d be back, he took it as a sign. A realization. Tim was ‘Gunman’ now. And he now had people to rely on. At least he would. If he could learn to trust them.

A group of criminals as a family. That was new. And really, it scared Tim. 

And it really, really excited him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I couldn't think of any trigger or content warnings, but if there are any I missed, please let me know!!


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tim gets to learn some stuff about the world he's in. 
> 
> No trigger or content warning I can think of. Except for Tim's tacky yearning.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Marius and Tim are Good Friends, ok??? Please???
> 
> Also, we finally get to where the title comes from.

The next morning he was jostled awake before even dawn. 2:36 the clock on the wall read. 2:36? In the morning? God why was he up this early. He didn't have to be at work till three this afternoon!

With a groan, Tim pulled a pillow over his face and rolled over, kicking at the person who dared to interrupt his slumber, though he didn't actually hit anything. The pillow was yanked away and thrown across the room. 

“Get up, we’re going out and you gotta learn something sometime. No point in wasting resources on a useless member.”

God, Jonny again. Though, Tim realized his voice still had sleep on it, giving it a husky-er color, and damn he thought it was hot. But only for a second before mentally slapping himself. This is no time to be thinking about how undenyable attractive your new gang-mate is, with those blue, sharp eyes, those lovely, slight hands, that sturdy, hot voice…

Tim caught his thoughts drifting again, and he menatlly slapped himself again, because he felt those hands grabbing the back of his shirt and yanking him out of the bed. It caused him to tumble onto the floor with a yelp. He pulled himself up and immediately started feeling around in the moonlight for some suitable pants. 

“Hey! Get out so I can change! I’ll be downstairs in a few minutes if you are so desperate!” He yelled at the man, annoyed. This earned a hand pressed over his lips.

“I swear, if you wake Quartermaster or Mercury, so help me God, I will skin you. Got that? Neither of ‘em get nearly enough sleep and, for once, they're both getting it.” Jonny whisper-yelled. Tim shoved his hand away, but nodding silently in obedience, still more than a little scared by him. For a moment, Tim swore he saw Jonny grin. Just a little. Just a little half smile. And in his mind, Tim found it very pretty in the silver light.

He turned away and stalked out of the room.

“Maybe it was just the light…” Tim muttered to himself.

~~~~~~~

He made his way downstairs, eyeing the roof and walls. Taking in every little detail. The way the moon came through the glass panes lining the top of the building. The places where it was barely holding itself together, and the places it would never break. He was pulled out of the view by a hand grasping his wrist. Tim turned to see a very serious looking Marius urging him forward. This time, Tim followed them through a small workers entrance to exit the building, the whole time, they stayed looking stone faced. 

He was yanked into a car, letting out an odd ‘oof’ sound as he hit the fabric seats of the car. A rather dingy car at that. Jonny sat in the drivers, and Marius in the passengers. The second they were locked in the car and moving, Marius spoke up.

“We’re going tagging and just keeping an eye on everything.” Tim nodded, hands resting on his knees as he bounced his leg like a spring in nervousness. 

“Make sure no one is stirring up trouble. Typically Mad would go out with Baron instead of me, but last time they proved that they couldn't be responsible alone together, so I had to replace one or the other,” Jonny added, making eye-contact with Tim in the rearview mirror. Before he could even finish talking, Marius made an offended noise, smacking Jonny repeatedly in the arm, causing him to swear and swerve, swinging his own right arm out to smack him right back. The good natured fight ended in small laughter out of both of them.

Tim just sat still, feeling awkward and out of place in the back. With the two laughing and talking and giving each other those glances…

He knew they weren't an item or anything, but it still annoyed him. Jonny was so cold with him, and yet after just two minutes or so with Marius he was laughing and smiling. It made Tim jealous too. He couldn't pinpoint just why, but he didn’t get the chance to. The car turned into a small, shady area between two apartments. Run down things, the buildings were. Everything in this area was. Tim felt bad. He wasn't sure why, he lived here too. Why the city didn't do anything about it, he didn't know. Probably because a lot of low class people and minorities that were victims of awful systems filled it. Also, it didn't bring in any real revenue. It sucked, it really did. The people and places that needed the help the most always got ignored. That's how things like gangs and crime rates went up, which just resulted in them needing more help, and the city refusing real help. A catch 22.

“Out, stay close, don't make a sound. Understood?” Jonny instructed, snapping Tim back to reality. He nodded promptly, climbing out of the car.

They all just walked for a while, and Marius held a big grey backpack on his shoulder. Every now and then, Jonny or Marius would run their fingers over a tag or a symbol, as if to check if it was wet or dry. Then they'd mutter amongst themselves, leaving Tim confused and left out yet again.

Finally he got fed up. Tim tapped Marius on the shoulder.

“You said I was here to learn, so teach me.” 

Marius turned, made a quick glance at Jonny who nodded at him and held out his arm. Turning back to face Tim, Marius handed the bag back to Jonny without even looking at him, like they were used to any motion, like they were connected.

“Ok. Walk with me then.” and Tim followed. He was led in the opposite direction of Jonny. Marius’ long finger pointed out different colors and tags as they walked along.

“So,” he started, “See the different colors these are all in?” he looked to Tim for confirmation, who nodded. “So each color is a different gang. The brown, pink, yellow, light blue, green are all either rivals, allies, or other gangs. Brown and green are not operational anymore. See how brown has a red and a white line through the tag?” Tim nodded again. “White line means surrendered to another gang. That's why they aren't operational anymore,” Marius explained, before Tim interrupted.

“Wait, then why the red line too?” 

“Be patient! don't cut me off!” Marius pouted, before starting again. “As I was saying- that means one or more has been killed in a fight or surrender. Once it gets painted over by the same gang again, it means they've either returned or recovered if they haven't been completely decimated. A black line means they're gone completely. Driven out or just disappeared. A blue X or line means cops got a hold of them. Blue stars also mean cops have been spotted recently in the area.”

“I thought blue was another gang?” Tim said, confused. It was so much information to remember.

“No, that’s light blue, I mean dark blue is for cops. Green was decimated by cops.” Marius explained, happy when Tim nodded in understanding. He walked over to a once yellow tag that had been tagged over in purple. The same shade of violet that Brian had scrolled all over his walls. Tim ran his fingers over it. 

“What’s this mean? You didn't mention purple?” Tim asked, turning to look at Marius in the dark. Curly hair reflecting the now full moon and silhouetting him against the street.

“That’s us. The Mechanisms. We are the violet. Anytime you see it, that's us. That's you.” he lightly jabbed a finger into Tim’s chest.

The way he said it sent shivers down Tim. Everytime his mind started to drift, to really forget or ignore how he was supposed to exist now, something happened and he was reminded. And now he was slowly becoming more and more used to it. Like standing in a cold shower. At first, it's shocking and near painful with its sharp, icy fingernails raking down your neck and sides, but after a little while, it numbs your skin, so you can hardly feel anything other than the regular buzzing of the temperature under the skin.

“We are the violet.” Tim ran his fingers over the tag again. He swiveled around and looked at Marius, and repeated it again. “We are the violet.”

“Yes. We are.” 

Had he been inside, he would have hit the ceiling. Jonny had manifested as if by magic, his unexpected response startling Tim. “It's all clear, we can head back. That spray paint Mad saw on the window back home, Baron? It’s not anything if the grounds are anything to go by.” Jonny’s voice slowly faded into the background as he started discussing with Marius. 

Tim couldn't help but stare. He thought Marius was pretty in the moon, but Jonny was of a different breed. The blue of his eyes was only visible at the right angle with the right light because of his dark circles and the eyeliner he was trying to cover them with, otherwise they looked just grey. His eyes looked softer, and Tim couldn't tear his mind away from that wide, wild smile from earlier, when they were all in the car. He figured they'd just forgotten he was there. Tim thought he looked pale, especially in comparison to Marius. The moonlight made him more intense. He looked sharp and hard, Tim thought. Simply beautiful.

Slowly, he brought himself back to his senses on his own this time. He decided he didn't trust himself to speak again, so he just walked towards Marius and leaned on his shoulder. Baron didn't even flinch, like he was used to it. It wasn't long before Jonny started walking back to the old alley, to the car. Marius nudged Tim.

“Lets go, Gunman. You can go to sleep when we get home, ok?” they both kept calling it home.

Home. Let's go home…

Would he ever be able to call it home too?


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tim keeps learning!! Also!! Brian!! Finally!!! I mean technically we've already met him but like- more Brian

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Content warnings: one character threatens and physically attacks another character before being overpowered

A few weeks passed. Tim stayed at work more than anything, Ashes kept suggesting that he take some extra hours. Every now and then, he and Marius or Raphaella would go out both on gang business and just as friends, though. He learned about Ivy or Marius or Raphaella, including their real names, more than anything street related, depending which partner he was out with. All of it was cute. He spent a good bit of time alone with Toy Soldier. So far he’d learned that was the only name it liked to be addressed with outside of code names, even though it appeared to be a code name itself. He also learned that it preferred it, then they, then he pronouns, making it the first person he’d ever met like that. He found it quite neat. Tim really liked the coffee shop they usually ended up at. Low hanging orange lights and green linoleum counters, it felt as personal as a place you don't live at can feel. Really, it wasn’t long before that friendship Raphaella spoke of started to take root, much to Tim’s pleasant surprise. The gold-haired woman loved to talk about her boyfriend and girlfriend, though there was tight competition between Marius, who was often even worse about it. And Tim wouldn't stop either of them, seeing them both happy was nice in Tim’s mind. He didn’t spend much time alone with their partner Ivy. She mostly kept to herself around him, but he still found himself knowing enough about her to keep conversation comfortable when they had to do things together.

Now, he’d only run into Nastya once or twice since the first time, but both times she was kind. The first time; she, Ashes, Jonny, Ivy and Brian were bent over something on a table, talking in hushed voices. Nastya was the one that stood up, addressed him, and pointed him in the direction he meant to go. The second time she offered to show him some good, not too high impact workouts he could do on his own, ‘to keep in shape,’ as she said, which Tim found helpful, if not weird. Nastya just didn't seem to be the type to be hyper fitness aware.

Of course Marius kept dragging him to that rug covered room to fight, and Tim was getting better. Better at taking a hit, better at avoiding a hit, better at tricks to knock him off his feet. Tim learned he wasn't much of a “punch in the face” guy, more of a “slide under, over, and around till they get confused, then kick them” kinda guy. Just like the first time. Still, things bit at the back of his mind.

Every time Tim saw him, Jonny avoided him.

When they'd got back to their rooms that night, Tim swore that he’d stared at him a few seconds longer than most people would. He kept showing up, too. Going into rooms that Tim was in, only to ignore him. To clean or grab something, but he lingered longer than he needed to. Tim saw him, but when he would try to talk to Jonny alone, he’d walk off, or act like he wasn't able to hear him. If Tim tried to so much as make eye contact with him, he’d immediately look away. 

It kinda hurt, but he didn't ignore Tim completely, so it was fine.

Brian, though. He’d only seen him twice since waking up in his bed, and the second time it wasn't even at the warehouse. It was on the way home from the supermarket. He was out with his paints, mask on and collar popped up to cover his neck. Spraying something complicated on the backside of a complex near Tim’s own. How he was always somewhere else, Tim didn’t try to figure out. But surely he was exhausted.

Again, it confused Tim. Almost made him sad, but not quite. He just wanted to learn more about him.

So much was a mystery to Tim. But it was fine for now.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Tim took a big breath before stepping out of his door onto the platform hallway. He’d decided to himself that he would meet Brian more. He knew he was here today. When Tim had woken up this morning to the sun coming in and blinding him, he’d heard the back door slam. Obviously curious, he put pants on and went out to bend over the railing. There the Drumbot was, walking in, mask pulled down under his chin, and his jacket slung over an arm. A few hours later, he deemed it enough rest time. If he was asleep, he could wait, but otherwise, he wanted to get to know the mystery that was Brian.

Striding down to the farthest room from his own, his mind kept swirling out his ideas behind his eyes. He was so enamoured with Jonny of course. He had since they'd been so coarsely introduced. Maybe enamored wasn't the right word, really. Tim had been scared of him, but still captivated by him. Confused. Intrigued? He was very small and young looking, but still intimidating and commanding. And striking. The night when he’d taken Tim and Marius out on that- whatever that was, he’d not seen much of him, but what he did see… The way he smiled when the latter had made him laugh…

Tim wanted that. He wanted Jonny to look at him and smile at what he said. Of course, he’d have to get him to talk to him for more than thirty seconds first.

As he neared the door, reaching over to knock, he noticed music pumping behind the walls. It was clearly supposed to drown out what the people inside were saying, but one of them was much louder. Walking around the room maybe? It sounded like Brian. 

Tim pushed his ear to the wall with extreme caution, listening. 

“Jonny, why don’t you just, ya know, communicate for once,” he heard, followed by a muffled response. All that Tim picked out was some grumbling and the word “training” he thought.

So, Jonny. That was Heart’s name. Jonny. 

Tim liked it. He repeated it a few more times in his head before leaning back and knocking on the door. Brian answered, pulling it open, and smiling when he saw Tim. 

“Come on in, Eyes!” he said, delightedly. He’d earned that nickname after getting double black eyes from Marius. But it seemed to fit, as everyone else seemed to have some kind of body-based nickname.

Stepping in, Tim took stock of the room. There was a new mural started since he’d been there last. It was painted over the metal sheet-covered window, on top of more old art. Jonny was sitting against the wall, just next to the door. Tim tried not to care, but, for some weird reason he did. Just seeing him doing something so normal as sitting against a wall, in a bedroom, talking to his friend freaked him out a little. Like he was normal, they were all normal.

“What did ya need?” Brian asked, going back to the bed and lounging on the pillows.

“Oh, I just wanted, uh, I don't know really. I was mostly wondering if you could maybe teach me some about all of- '' Tim swirled his wrist in a circle to gesture about the room, “This. How to do it, what it means, all that. But if you and Jonny are busy…”

The second it left his mouth; Jonny’s name left his mouth, he was up off the floor and pushing Tim against the wall. He actually noticed the air getting knocked out of him as his chest and cheek hit the cold cement before he noticed Jonny moving. A weezing gasp left his lips, followed by a cry-out from Brian. 

“Jonny! What the hell!” he said loudly, sitting up fast on his arms.

“Pilot! Stop!”

“Dude he already knows your name, it doesn't matter if I say it again!” his face twisted into some angry emotion as he yelled. “Jonny Jonny Jonny!” Brian taunted, repeating himself over and over again, as Jonny yelled over him to shut up. Screaming and yelling and swearing. At some point, it was hard to tell apart the growing static that filled Tim's ears. Tim just tensed up in the painful grasp. This was the first thing to happen that was actually kinda scary. It’d been a month and really, it’d been a breeze. But now, in the middle of this screaming match, pressed to a wall, he was freaked. So freaked, infact, he felt a pulse of adrenaline soar through him. 

He didn't know how he knew what to do, but Tim just threw his body backwards as hard as he could, throwing a distracted Jonny to the ground and whipping around.

“Cut it OUT! Why should it matter? I know your name ‘Heart'’” he put air quotes around the name, “I already know Quartermaster is Ashes, Mercury is Nastya! That was an accident, yeah, but I still know! Marius, Ivy, and Raphaella all trust me enough to share their names too! And I haven't said a word, have I Jonny?!” on the floor, the elder looked shocked, and the one on the bed just sat in silence, mouth open. “You know my name is Tim, don't you? Isn't this whole operation built on trust?! Have I done a single thing for you not to trust me?!” Tim pointed an accusatory finger at the boy on the floor, who’d now propped himself up on his elbows. 

“I- I’m sorry...” Jonny started, but Tim put a foot on his chest to shut him up, not really pressing too hard, but enough to knock him down off his elbows.

“No, don't tell me now. I have to go to work. We can talk later or we can't. You clearly have a lot of voice, but you haven't used any to address me so far, so, I don't care.” Tim turned to leave, pausing at the doorway. “Hey Pilot, take me up on that teaching offer?” he said with a small, questioning, smile, looking at the shell-shocked boy on the bed, who just nodded weakly. Tim nodded once, curtly, and walked out the door, maintaining the facade until he got to his own room. After that, he grabbed keys and a jacket and just got to work as soon as he could. The regularness of it all would distract him.

Still, it hurt. Did Jonny really think Tim wasn't trustworthy? And why did Tim care so much that he didn’t? Why did it matter? It wasn't his place to judge Jonny’s mind. And still… 

Tim shook his head out of it. He wasn’t allowed to be hurt that the man that had gotten him roped into this all still didn't want to even try to work with him. Whatever, Tim didn't care.

But he did, really.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tim finally gets mad! Wow! Jonny is a cunt! Who'd guess! I love them all so much-


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh hey look, emotional maturity! Kinda...
> 
> Also Bertie is here I guess. This one is shorter than I'd like, but but the next chapter is like 2500 words so it's ok.

Tim spent the majority of his shift reorganizing and unloading paint cans. Heavy and hard work that took longer than it should due to the limited number of cans he could carry in a run to the truck and back. 

He’d gotten to work at noon, but by four he was only about two-thirds of the way done. Eventually, the owner of the shop noticed his trouble and sent his son, Bertie, out to help. The two had known each other for years. Infact, Bertie was fundamental in Tim getting his job here as a teenager. But he’d kept the job for his own hard work. That all considered, it didn't take long for the boy to realize something was wrong with his friend.

“So…”

“So?” Tim repeated after him.

“What’s wrong? You’ve seemed way more tired than usual this past few weeks. And today? Tim, you usually would have finished putting these up and logging them an hour ago. What's going on?” his friend questioned him, four pink cans of paint in his arms.

“Just life I guess,” Tim shrugged, before disappearing inside, setting down a box of rollers, and coming back out. Technically, it wasn't a lie. This was his life now, after all.

“Is it a girl?” Bertie asked.

Silence.

Bertie put down the box he was holding. Tim wasn’t looking at him anymore, looking intently at paint can labels.

“Tim. Is it a boy?” He asked softly. Tim had never explicity come out as queer to Bertie, but through out highschool and their adulthood together he had always sorta had this feeling that it was the case. He’d never pushed.

Tim stayed silent again, but his movement stopped. He turned his head further away from the younger.

“It is, isn’t it…” Bertie walked over, squatting down and putting a hand on Tim’s shoulder. “You know I won’t be mad at you right? There’s nothing wrong with that.” His voice was very soft, very kind, sorta worried.

Tim nodded slowly, starting to talk, but his voice caught, so he started over. “I don't know…I don't know at all. I think so, but I don't know. I don't like being confused and he confuses me. He looks at me all the time, but never speaks.” His voice shook slightly, and Bertie took to rubbing a hand over his friends back. “He's so closed off too. And scary. But it still hurts and I don't know why.” there was the glint of tears in his eyes when he finally looked up to Bertie. “Why does he hate me? Why does it bother me so much that he hates me?” 

Bertie pursed his lips in a tight line as he thought, before sighing. “I don’t know Tim. I've never liked a man, but I assume it's like being in love-”

“Love?” Tim fell back on his butt from the squat he’d been in. “No, no, I'm not in love, I hardly know him.” he insisted, shaking his head and repeating himself a few times. Changbin hated seeing his friend upset, he always had. Tim was older, but after their sophomore year, it really became a relationship where they both fell onto each other, no reason that one should be more entitled to care for the other.

“Here, go home early, I'll cover the rest of your shift. Technically I was supposed to get off an hour ago, and I really doubt my father will mind with all the extra hours you've been taking.” Bertie helped his friend stand. Slowly, Tim sniffled and wiped his eyes. 

“Thank you Bert,” Tim chuckled out. 

“Hey! Don't call me that, it sounds like a gross old man!” Bertie said, but smiled nonetheless. “Hey, come here,” he held his arms out, waving Tim into them. Of course Tim took right to it, wrapping his arms tightly around his friend. Tim liked his hugs. Usually, the younger would lean into his neck and rest his chin or head on his shoulder. Being the taller one felt nice. 

Whispering a small thank you after nearly a minute, Tim pulled away. Just as he did so, though, a car pulling up to the back of the shop and hitting the breaks took all the attention. He knew that car; he’d just ridden in it not long ago.

There was Jonny, feeling slightly awkward, looking back and forth between the two. He rolled down the window. 

“Hey, uh, Tim, do you wanna maybe go get a drink? So I can, ya know, apologize?” 

Tim had gone stiff, back straight and chin tilted up. Bertie noticed this and whispered in his ear, “this the guy?”

“Yeah.” Tim eyed Jonny sitting in the car, watching him grow more uncomfortable by the minute.

“What do you want with Tim?” Bertie stepped forward, up to Jonny's window,

“I just wanted to apologize to him. Talk a little. Are you his…” he gestured a little with the hand not on the wheel, meaning to say boyfriend.

“No, I have a lady, but he is my friend and I don’t want him going anywhere with someone he doesn't want to,” Bertie stated, folding his arms and clearly not planning to back down. At least until Tim stepped forward, resting a hand on his shoulder.

“I want to, you can stand down soldier,” Tim smiled apologetically to his best friend. He walked over to the passenger side of the car, opening the door and sitting down. “Love you Bertie, call you tomorrow?” Bertie nodded, somewhat confused.

Tim looked at a still confused Jonny. 

“Well? You gonna drive us somewhere or are we just gonna idle in this parking lot?” Tim snarked, to which Jonny gathered himself and nodded. 

“Uh yeah. Yeah we’re going...uh where do you wanna go?” he asked as he started to pull onto the road.

“Hair of the Dog. The pub. That good?” Jonny nodded again, clearly not in his element.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Even the sticky, crowded bar air couldn’t fog out the tension between the two bent over the bar. Tim had a fake idea on him, so he got in and ordered just fine, learning that Jonny himself was actually the legal drinking age. A fact that seemed to annoy him greatly. Tim had a tall, heavy glass mug of beer in his hand, half empty, and Jonny was flipping his empty shot glass over and over and over. The steady clink of the wood and glass was hypnotizing. And infuriating.

“You wanna cut that out?” Tim groaned, running a hand through his hair, now let down loose and took a drink. After setting down the mug, he turned to look at Jonny, who slowly looked him in the eye. 

“Uh, yeah. Sorry.”

“You said you wanted to apologize? Do you even know what you did?” Tim asked him, furrowing his brow. Like he already didn't believe him.

“Yeah, for attacking you,” Jonny started, but Tim’s stare wanted him to continue. “And for just, not treating you like a person. I…” he took a breath. “I don’t trust you. I’m not sorry for that. I don’t have a reason not to, no, but I also don’t have outstanding proof to trust you either.” Tim nodded, but still didn’t look satisfied. That was fine, Jonny wasn’t done. “You’re new. Suddenly everything is thrown off and you haven't even done anything yet. It’s not surprising that Marius and Raph love you. Pilot thinks you're cool too and even Nastya has started to let you grow on her. I don’t know why, but that bothers me. I need to move past that. So here we are. I’m sorry. But if you want me to trust you in full, you’ll have to earn it. But from here on out, I’ll try not to make it hard on you.” Jonny finished, folding his hands on the counter.

Tim listened, sitting in silence as he took another sip. He sounded genuine, and it wasn't as though he really expected much, and here Jonny was, actually making an effort. He understood why he would need to earn his trust. In fact, Tim figured he should think the same way from here on out.

“Well, how ‘bout this,'' Tim leaned forward, “Let’s start slowly, ok?” Jonny’s expression shifted slightly, like he was contemplating what he was hearing, however nervous. “What if, maybe, you just tell me your name? Age maybe?” he really hoped it’d work. What else could he do? Being angry was tiring too, Tim didn’t like it either. There's no point in staying mad at someone when there's nothing you can do to change them, especially if you have to live with them. Now that he thought about it, It’d been a little too much silence since Tim had last spoken. Why isn't Jonny responding? It’s not a hard question, why was he taking so long to think goddmn it! Was he-

“Jonny. You know that, though, so. Jonny D’Ville. I’m 21, but you figured that out too if youre not stupid, and I was born in New Texas. Is that enough for you?” Jonny had meant the words to sound harsh, but they didn't come out quite so. Just slightly sarcastic on the last phrase, otherwise mildly defeated. Tim smiled at him. Not a face-splitting grin, but a smile nonetheless. He liked Tim’s smile, Jonny thought. He’d make a note to see more of it somehow.

“Well then, Mr. Jonny D’Ville,” Tim extended a hand out to him, “It’s lovely to meet you. I’m Gunpowder Tim, 20, which you knew from when you pick-pocketed my wallet, from London.” He kept his arm extended expectantly for nearly thirty seconds before Jonny realized he was supposed to shake it. He did so with a small “oh”, which made Tim laugh. More of a giggle really. A bright, open sound that made Jonny smile, laugh just a little. A chuckle that didn't go unnoticed by the long haired boy, but unmentioned. Tim didn't think Jonny even noticed he’d laughed and he didn't want to be the one to take it away.

The conversation didn't go much from there, and around midnight, they departed the bar. The drive back was silent, and at first it worried Jonny, before, when stopped at a light, he looked over to find an asleep Tim in the passenger seat. 

To say he looked stunning, even in sleep would be a lie. His hair was all pushed up to one side with some of it managing to wrap itself around the headrest, and he was drooling on the hand holding his up his head. The seatbelt was twisted around him in a way that looked uncomfortable and one of his knees was pulled up to his chest. Jonny made up his mind. He would just carry him inside. No need to wake him, he looked so tired.

Once they pulled into where Jonny typically parked, he realized it was gonna be way too hard to carry him in. so he pulled around the back and texted Nastya. When the tall, glasses-wearing girl came out the door to see Jonny struggling up the stairs to it, she couldn't help but start to laugh. Jonny furrowed his brow and shushed him loudly, almost tripping and dropping Tim in the process. 

“Oh shut up Nastya. Get my keys, they’re in the car still, and park it. I’m gonna get Tim to bed.” Nastya nodded and rolled her eyes as Jonny and Tim squeezed past her, starting to say something before a glare from Jonny cut her off. “And I swear to god Anastasia, if you say a word of this to anyone else, I will skin you alive.” 

“I know ya will, Jonny,” she shook her head as she watched the door close from the car, Jonny’s back disappearing up the stairs.

He tried to be graceful, he really did, but the second he got to the top of the stairs, he thought he was gonna faint. Tim’s room was just too far. Five doors down when his was right here. So he made a fast, dumb decision. He took him into his own room and dropped him onto the bed with a wince as he bounced, before pulling a blanket over him quickly. 

Jonny couldn’t help but pause as his hands let the blanket to rest by his collarbones. Now that he was on a bed, however jumbled, Tim looked much more graceful. Peaceful. His long hair was still a mess, but it glinted in the now steady light from the widow, splayed out in a way that framed his face wonderfully. His round, slack cheeks were accented and his jawline, from his tilted head, was accentuated in the same light glinting off his facial hair.

Maybe he was beautiful, even asleep.

And Jonny didn’t mind sleeping downstairs.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Gaygaygaygaygaygay- I mean- yeah whoops. I dunno. Hope you enjoyed? I guess?? There is so much Brian in the next chapter! Also, Tim is like, 6'3", and Jonny is a whole fuckin' 5'8" so uh, enjoy that fun struggle. Little man is trying so hard. I love him.


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's Brian guys!! And Tim is bad at being gay, oh my god, it's like they're high schoolers

Tim woke up with a headache. He hadn’t drunk that much the night before, he’d though, but he’d been more hung over than this before. Sitting up, Tim became very aware that he was still in his jeans. His very, very uncomfortable jeans. He looked around.

“God fucking damn it-” he swore, flopping back on the bed with a groan. He was in another person’s bed _again._ And it was a __completely different room! This__ had better not become a habit, he told himself. At least he was still dressed and alone, meaning he probably hadn’t done anything too unsavory after he’d fallen asleep in Jonny’s car. 

Jonny’s car… This was Jonny’s room. He was in Jonny’s room in Jonny’s bed and he didn’t remember walking up the stairs to get to the floor they all slept on. Did he sleep walk?

Tim muttered to himself, rubbing his eyes. “How-”

“Did I end up in Jonny’s bed?” the man himself was suddenly, silently, in the doorway. He wasn’t super quiet or stealthy or anything in actuality, Tim just hadn’t really been paying attention. Jonny’s forearm was pressed against the doorframe above his head, the other hand was in his pocket, his hips cocked arrogantly and all the weight on one leg, the other crossed over at the ankle. He looked like he was gloating and it made Tim want to punch him in the face. Tim sneered at him as he fished the hair tie off his wrist to shove his hair into a very ratty bun. He really needed to brush his hair, it was a rat’s nest. He sat up as he did so, not bothering to get up yet

“Yeah, maybe that’s what I was gonna say,” he grumbled as he let his arms flop down into his lap in a horrible slouch. Here comes Jonny, annoying and self-absorbed as ever. Realizing he was just under a top sheet and Jonny apparently didn’t have any kind of real blanket on his bed anywhere, he did a double take. What kind of crazy person didn’t use anything but a top sheet? “What am I doing up here anyway. You lug me up the stairs and dump me in your bed to have your way with me or something, D’Ville?” Tim joked, and noticed him inhale sharply when he said his name, but it passed over his face quickly. He was gonna have to get used to hearing his name said by a stranger. He didn’t really think he was up here due to any malintent. Sure Jonny wasn’t the nicest person, but Tim didn’t think he’d go as far as to actually try to hurt him, really. But then again, he had attacked him rather violently over something as simple as a name...

“I’d say clearly not. You’re still dressed and clean, are you not?” Jonny rolled his eyes and started walking over to Tim, inspecting his mostly bare room. There was a filing cabinet in place of a dresser, a small desk and folding chair, three pictures tacked up to the wall (one of Nastya looking up annoyed from a book at the camera, and with a keen eye you could see Ashes in the background, serving as her cushion, Brian and Jonny asleep on top of eachother with what looked like Jonny’s year 12 math homework spread out on their laps, a pencil still in Brian’s limp hand, and one of Marius pinning Brian’s arm behind his back in that rug room with Jonny (and Ivy) laughing at the side), and a pull-up bar like the one in Tim’s room. There was also a locked safe pressed against the far wall, but it was mostly covered in dirty clothes, like the other surfaces in the room. “I’d thank me, if I was you, Tim,” he flaunted the words out, an eyebrow raised and a smirk, standing at Tim's bedside with his arms crossed. Tim straightened his posture, looking back at him with an expression that said ‘ _oh is that so? You think you're better than me? You wish!’_

“Oh but thank you, my _liege_ ,” he mocked. “What’d you do, carry me across the threshold bridal style?” Tim imitated Jonny’s posture and expression, looking him dead in the eye like a challenge. As if there was something to be challenged.

“Pfft, no. I didn’t-” the words were hardly out of his mouth before a young, russian-heavy voice yelled from one room over. 

“HE TOTALLY DID! JONNY CARRIED YOU UP THE STAIRS LIKE A PRINCESS!!” Tim could practically hear the grin in Nastya’s voice. Jonny flushed bright red. 

“DID NOT!” He yelled back as Tim busted out laughing, curling over onto himself. Jonny smacked him on the back of the head, clearly very embarrassed. “Shut up, moron. I just didn’t want to deal with having to wake your grumpy ass up,” he grumbled. Tim felt a little bad for laughing, but not really. He figured Jonny deserved this. 

“Fine, fine!” he raised his hands in surrender. “Thank you for not waking me up and letting me stay in your room, Jonny,” Tim stopped laughing, face still split in half from his awful grin, and leaned back on his hands in the bed. Jonny grumbled out a poor ‘You're welcome’ crossing his arms again and pouting, averting his eyes from Tim’s “Though I will say. You are a _monster_! Who on god’s green earth sleeps with a top sheet and nothing else!?” he smiled wide as Jonny scowled at him, grabbing him by the back of his shirt and yanking him out of the bed. 

“Shut up,” he shoved him to his feet. If Tim had wanted to stay put, he doubted Jonny could have actually moved him, but he went along with his motions, grinning wildly. He held up his hands in surrender again as Jonny sat down hard on the bed. “Go shower, Eyes, you reek. And I need a nap. That dumb couch left a crick in my neck,” he returned to his regular look of distaste and apathy, his voice annoyed and uncaring. It made Tim feel a pang of something in his chest, almost guilt but not really. He just nodded, dropping his grin and walking out of the room, closing the door behind him. 

Jonny had been warm to him, almost. He’d made jokes and was decent to him, and what got Tim was how he’d literally carried him up the stairs to _his own_ room. Jonny was almost half Tim’s size, it seemed. The man was no taller than 5’7, maybe 5’8 if he pushed it, and no more than 160 pounds soaking wet, Tim guessed. And here he was, nearly 6’3. At least in Jonny’s defense, he wasn’t exactly bulky. But he’d still tried and even more so succeeded in getting him up the stairs from the car. And had he said he slept on the couch? He didn’t even bother to cop Tim’s room while he took his bed, no. It was almost, dare he say, kind?

Tim sighed. Might as well go find him. Thank him and all that.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

After checking every room in the warehouse and turning up no Jonny, he gave up, unfortunately not before opening a door to a very entangled Raph and Marius. Tim had not been previously aware that a man of Marius' size could get his legs so close to his head. Though Raphaella assisting in bending him in half probably helped. He didn't care _that_ much about finding Jonny. He’d gotten in this whole situation trying to talk to Brian, he might as well actually get to do that much, now that Jonny had decidedly disappeared. He probably didn’t smell too bad, and could put off his shower even longer.

“Hey Drumbot, you occupied?” Tim asked through the heavy door as he knocked. 

“No! I actually just got home! Come on in!” He called, his voice bright as always. It confused Tim, but he wasn’t going to discourage or turn down a smiling or eager face. Tim pushed open the door to catch the tail end of Brian removing his shirt to change. He immediately covered his eyes, less out of modesty and more out of embarrassment.

But not before catching his body in his eye. He has warm-toned skin, and his body hair seemed to mirror that of the mop on his head as far as color went, unlike Jonny who had dark arm hair on his arms and legs. His stomach looked soft, and had a little pudge to it, as did his chest, that pairs nicely with his imposing, 6'7 form. 

“God, dude! You said I could come in!” Tim said a little too loudly. 

“Well, yeah. It's just my shirt, dude,” Brian chuckled, pulling down the fresh shirt and flopping down onto the bed. “Just a guess, but I’d assume that it’s not anything you haven’t seen, Eyes,” Tim nodded, removing the hand obscuring his vision but still stayed standing awkwardly in the doorway. “Well, are you gonna come in and sit down over here or are you content to just stay in the doorway?” he nearly mocked Tim with his tone and crooked half-smile. He rolled his eyes, pulling the door shut and walking over to the bed, sitting down cross-legged on it a few feet from Brian. 

“So, what’s like, your deal? I mean, you're like, never here and when you are, it’s hold-up in this room?” he asked, looking around to take in all the murals and tags from floor to ceiling. The colors were so bright, despite how dimly lit the room was with the door closed. 

“Well, I just like being out I guess. It’s more entertaining than staying here all the time. Don’t get me wrong, I love everyone, but when the most exciting thing to happen is getting beaten up by Marius again, you get tired of hanging around until there's something you're needed for.” he explained, pulling a green handkerchief out on his back pocket and tying back his hair with it. Tim thought he might be getting up to start another painting, but instead he walked over to the dresser and dug around until he found what he was looking for; a plain black hoodie. He threw it on and headed back to Tim, leaning back into some of the many pillows on the bed. “It's cold in here,” he said, though Tim had done nothing to indicate a question. “Doesn’t it get boring just painting all the time? Or at least get a little unhealthy with the fumes? I mean, in here you don’t even have a proper window,” He questioned. It couldn’t be healthy.

“Oh, the window opens fine, I can take that sheet off whenever I want, my room’s just doesn’t have any glass left in it so I use it to keep stuff out. But yeah, it’s a little bit clogging if I do it for too long. I mean, it’s also not the _only_ thing I do when I’m out,” he chuckled, and when Tim looked over to him, he couldn’t not notice Brian’s eyes raking over him, very deliberately in a way he couldn’t quite read. He cocked his head to the side, then smiled. “C’mere, let me braid your hair,” Brian said, voice not demanding but comforting.

“I haven’t brushed it in a hot second, it's probably a rats nest,” Tim said with a laugh in his voice. Brian stood up and fished through his drawers until he had a brush. Looking up over his shoulder, Tim could see how meticulously organized the drawers were, but so full of stuff that it still hardly stayed contained. “And I need to shower...”

“Here, you face the foot of the bed,” Brian instructed, a hair tie in his mouth slurring his words. He settled behind Tim and he could feel the bed dip under his weight, and it made his tilt backwards a little, set right when Brian took a strong hand and pushed him upright, before taking his hair into sections. “Are you tender headed?” he asked as he started to comb through the decently knotted hair. Tim jerked when it pulled his hair, but shook his head regardless, earning him a small smack, “don't move!”

“You're not braiding it yet though!” Tim defended. “And no. Not tender headed,”

“Yeah, but if you move I might pull it or tangle it more. Do you fight everyone this much?” Brian rolled his eyes, the hair tie in his teeth still slurring his speech.

“Maybe I do,” Tim huffed, crossing his arms. Brain rolled his eyes and yanked his hair real hard. “Ow! Bastard!” he turned to glare at him, but melted when he saw Brian’s brilliant grin. His eyes crinkled with so many smile lines, and his cheeks and nose were pink in a lovely way. It made Tim's stomach flutter.

“Alright, I’m sorry, just sit still,” Brian chuckled and got back to the long hair in front of him. It took a while to get untangled, but once he did and Brian ran his finger through the silky detangled locks, Tim couldn’t help but lean into the touch, touch starved as he was. Brian didn’t say anything about it out of politeness. He too was touch starved and lonely, and Tim’s hair was just so soft and pretty… His hand stopped separating the strands and stayed still, cradling the back of his skull.

“Hey do you know how to do a dutch braid?” Tim asked, clearing his throat. Brian nodded before realizing Tim couldn’t actually see him.

“Yeah, I do. Is that what you want?” Brian got up onto his knees for better access to Tim’s crown. 

“Yes please,” Tim relaxed into the bed, closing his eyes as Brian started moving fingers across his scalp, separating the strands and working them into the pretty knots of a braid. It didn’t take too long, despite the length, but every now and then he could feel Brian undo the last four or six interlocks to stall finishing. He didn’t bother to point it out.

“There, all done,” Brian stared at his handy-work, smiling. “I, uh. I don't actually have a mirror in here. If you wanna go to the bathroom?” he offered. Tim nodded, coming back from his bliss. 

“Sure, lead the way,” Tim stood up, tucking his hands in his pockets as he followed Brian to the bathroom. Inspecting his hair in the mirror, Tim got excited, looking with a big smile and big eyes at Brian, standing behind him with folded arms and his own soft, kind smile. “It looks so pretty, Brian,”

“I could argue that it looks fairly average; the man wearing it is the pretty one,” Brian said off-handed, before catching himself. “But, uh, yeah. Thanks Tim. Had fun,” He nodded, hoping he didn’t look too flustered as he dashed off to his room, got changed and headed out the door.

Tim just stood and stared at himself in the mirror for a while, before, with a big stupid grin on his face, he headed downstairs. He figured he’d go out somewhere, get some food or something before work later in the day. It was only 3pm after all. As he rounded the corner, he smacked right into the ever confusing ‘Toy Soldier’.

“Oh Hello Old Chap! That’s A Right Lovely Braid, Isn’t It?” it complemented, smiling in its ever persistence.

“Yeah… Brian did it,” Tim chuckled. He really did not talk to TS that much, but you know, now seemed as good a time as any.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> He's gay. They are gay. I love them but god please notice that you're falling in love already!!! Gaaaah. 
> 
> Anyway, this is my last prewritten chapter, and I'm posting it early because I'm so excited, but I'll still try to get stuff out one every week or so!


End file.
